Dan Wilson Jazz Guitarist

“…Sheer brilliance… Marie’s torch burns hotter and oft-times brighter than any of her peers” says JazzTimes about René Marie, a superlative jazz singer with an affinity for Betty Carter, Ella Fitzgerald, and Dinah Washington. She returns with a seven-piece band to perform her program Jump in the Line!, a heartfelt tribute to the late actor, activist, and calypso innovator Harry Belafonte, joined by guest trumpeter Etienne Charles and trombonist Wycliffe Gordon. Marie made people sit up and listen when she emerged on the scene fully formed in the late 1990s, performing at clubs like the Blue Note in Washington, D.C. and recording a series of well-received records on Maxjazz. A singular songwriter and outspoken civil rights activist, Marie was 42 when she began singing professionally. “Ms. Marie has a smart, clear voice,” wrote The New York Times' Ben Ratliff about her performance at the 2012 Charlie Parker Festival in New York. “She pushes her principles to the front of her work and playfully demands respect.” Her 11 albums include The Voice of My Beautiful Country, her spirited 2013 tribute to Eartha Kitt, I Wanna Be Evil, and her GRAMMY-nominated 2016 Motéma session devoted to original compositions, Sound of Red. In Her Own Words: Concert notes from René Marie Maybe it was the audible, irrepressible joy, the mischief, or the heartfelt delivery in every song he sang; qualities that obliterated any pain or doubt, drew me out of my shyness long enough to memorize Man Piaba / Woman Piaba, or Cocoanut Woman. By listening carefully, I could see in my mind's eye the full detail of whichever character he happened to be singing about. Was it the percussion alone? Or the playful vocabulary of calypso as a whole? Was it simply the FUN in singing along with "Matilda", "Scratch Me Back" or "Jump In the Line"? Whatever the ingredients, I have memorized the lyrics, savored the music and danced to it my entire life. Why am I having such a difficult time expressing what Belafonte's music means to me? Perhaps because it touches something so fundamental and personal that words simply dissipate.